Side Story #1: I am a Selfish person, do not forget me

For Ji-Ho, waking up to the biting cold was nothing surprising. Her thin blanket could barely keep her warm; it had holes in it that she didn't bother patching due to a lack of materials.

She couldn't ask her father for money when he was barely getting by with his job. And she, too sick to work, found that nobody wanted to hire her. They feared she might keel over and die on the job, leaving them with bills for her death.

This was her life: a liability to her father, a heavy weight he couldn't shed.

If he couldn't do it, then she would.

She had heard about the bounty hunter who arrived in their town a few days earlier. Though she hadn't seen her yet, Ji-Ho was determined to buy her services the moment she heard of the hunter's arrival.

Many claimed the bounty hunter was unforgiving and brutal.

And that was exactly what Ji-Ho needed. If someone as unforgiving and brutal could kill her, her father would no longer need to care for her and could focus on his own survival.

It was better this way, she told herself. Every night, as she lay in bed, she prayed to whatever gods were out there to save her father in exchange for her life.

She wished it would come true.

It was January 1 when she first met the mysterious person named Sponge. Ji-Ho initially thought Sponge was a handsome man, until she noticed features that revealed she was female.

Ji-Ho would perhaps never admit that she spent most of her time staring at Sponge.

She met Sponge under the assumption that she was the bounty hunter who had finally come to kill her. After all, it was only natural for a bounty hunter to be a foreigner and not a Korean, right?

The first thing Ji-Ho noticed about Sponge was her red hands; she looked cold. Something in Ji-Ho's chest ached at the sight.

When Ji-Ho asked what Sponge was doing in their town, the answer was simple: she was looking for a quill that wouldn't break on rides. It was an easy request, so Ji-Ho directed her to Seo-Jun's shop, always on the brink of closing. No one had money to buy anything, not even food.

After that first meeting, Ji-Ho felt a genuine excitement for the next day. There was something about Sponge that intrigued her, like a puzzle Ji-Ho wanted to solve.

Perhaps it was that Sponge didn't know about Ji-Ho's illness. She had no idea how sick Ji-Ho was, and Ji-Ho couldn't bring herself to tell her.

Befriending a sickly girl and getting attached was a bad idea.

Ji-Ho knew this. Sponge represented everything Ji-Ho desired: warmth, friendship, and a smiling face—everything Ji-Ho wished for herself if she were to be selfish.

She longed to be selfish.

She wanted to live; she wanted to see tomorrow. When she stepped outside, she wished to see Sponge waiting for her with a small, radiant smile that could light up the entire town.

Was this what her father called love?

Was her mother enough to illuminate her father's world?

Ji-Ho had never experienced such feelings, nor had she been taught about them. Nobody in their town had time for such trivialities as love. Love meant pain because everyone eventually leaves.

Ji-Ho couldn't help but feel that she would hurt Sponge in the end, yet a selfish part of her felt joy. Showing love to Sponge would ensure that Ji-Ho would remain in her memory.

Even if she met someone new, Sponge would remember Ji-Ho.

If Sponge saw the snow, Ji-Ho hoped she would think of her, no matter how painful that would be.

That was right; she was being selfish.

As long as Sponge remembered her, no matter how painful, Ji-Ho would welcome it with open arms.

Her time was running short. Every day, she felt the cold seeping deeper into her bones. No matter how warm Sponge was, it was never enough to fight back the chill that was slowly consuming her from the inside.

This curse.

This curse was the only thing stopping Ji-Ho from claiming what was hers.

She wished for another life where she could meet Sponge again, to bask in her warmth and soothing voice once more.

After all, she was selfish.

Sponge… Don't forget me. Remember, my love is my vice.

I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go, even in death.